


Nightmares

by colourfulpaints



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Panic Attack, Suicide, Trauma, its sad, sad Jason, sad tim, sorry - Freeform, warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 15:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5211032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourfulpaints/pseuds/colourfulpaints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The whole batfam has to deal with thier trauma and sometimes it can cause a shitty night. At least some of them don't have to go through it alone. </p>
<p>(dick comforts tim, but jason isnt living at home so hes alone)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a prompt submitted to oh-mother-of-darkness.tumblr.com and I cant seem to find the post in which the prompt is. If this is your prompt let me know so i can credit you please! Thanks!

Dick stood by the microwave with Tim wrapped in his arms. The sound of the machine and popping popcorn deafening in the night. The babybird was shaking, not from cold or nerves. The kind of deep soul shattering tremors that can come only from fear. He gently ran his fingers through Timmy’s dark hair, humming and trying to calm him down. The boy had stopped crying but he still clutched to Dick like his life depended on it, white hands blanched and twisted up in his t-shirt. Dick glanced up at the glowing light of the microwave before pressing a kiss against the crown of Tim’s head.

“It’s okay. It’s not real. You’re safe”, he murmured.

 

* * *

 

 

Minutes ago Dick had been woken by a scream down the hall. They had all trained themselves to sleep lightly, but he doubted that even Alfred hadn’t heard it. He bolted out of bed, grabbing the knife on his bedside table, and raced towards the source, knowing it had to be Tim. Damian and his father were on patrol in the city. The scream faded into the silence of the night as he skid to a stop in front of Tim’s door, sliding in his sock feet. He forced the door inwards, heart pounding thinking the worst has happened. What if somebody chose to attack now, knowing Bats was in the city? What if Tim had been taken? His eyes frantically searched the room, his brother nowhere to be found.  The bed was a mess of rumpled sheets and the vase on the beside table was broken onto the floor, water staining the carpet dark. He held his breath, listening, and heard whimpering coming from the bathroom. He crossed the room in two bounds, and he saw Tim, laying on the cold white tile floor of the bathroom, curled up and shaking. He dropped the knife with a soft thud onto the carpet as he crossed the threshold.

“Tim”, his voice was softened as he placed a hand on the boy’s bare shoulder, trying to bring him back to consciousness. He looked down onto his tear streaked face to see his pupils wide, eyes full of absolute terror staring at point that was not in existence, “Timmy!” he said more firmly.  

For a second his gaze wavered and broke, meeting Dicks. He sat bolt upright pushing himself against the cabinet under the sink and hyperventilating.  He held out his hands in defense shaking his head gently.

“Dick are you real?” It came out barely as a whisper, his voice cracked and thin.

“Yes. Are you okay if I touch you?” He knew he had to ask permission. He knew what Tim was going through. He knew it could get worse, fast.

“I’m so scared.”

“I know, just try to...” was all Dick got out before Tim turned to vomit into the toilet. He gripped the sides of the fixture, knuckles turning white. Dick turned to start the shower while he retched. Tim looked soaked in sweat and hot water was a good way to stop tremors, no matter their source.

Once Dick had gotten the water to a decent temperature he turned to look at his brother. Tim was leaning his forehead against the toilet seat, no longer shaking from pure fear, but crying as well. He sobbed, his arms loosening their death grip and falling to his sides. Dick placed his cool hand on Tim’s sweat dampened neck.

“Hey Timmy”, he whispered not wanting to startle, “can you look at me.”

Tim murmured something and slowly lifted his head. This time he made eye contact Dick could tell he was seeing him, not some point in space. His breath hitched and he threw himself into Dick’s arms crying into his shoulder.

They sat there on the floor of the bathroom. Dick held Tim and let him cry, waiting for him to calm down. When the shuddering sobs slowed and Tim became still, Dick loosened his grip. Tim didn’t pull out of his arms completely but he leaned back against the cabinet, sitting next to Dick instead of on top of him. He hadn’t stopped shaking, but his breath was steady and his eyes no longer weeping.

“Who was it?”

“Scarecrow. I couldn’t save Damian and Cass. Fuck that bastard.”

The steady patter of the shower continued in the background filling the, what would have otherwise been silent, air. Tim inched closer to Dick, twisting his fingers into his shirt.

“I’m cold.”

“Do you want to get showered? I turned it on.”

Tim stood up delicately, moving as if his joints were sore. He spat into the sink before throwing his sweatpants off and stepping into the shower.

“Don’t leave please”, his still soft voice barely audible over the sound of the water on the tile.

“I’m going to go get changed in your room and bring you clean clothes. Is that okay? I won’t leave your room.”

“Okay.”

Dick grabbed the sweatpants off the floor and tossed them into the hamper as he entered Tim’s room. He rummaged through the drawers looking for some of his own clothes that he knew Tim must have some of. He knew that most of the sweats would be too small for him but he managed to find a bigger pair, his or Bruce’s in the bottom of one of the drawers. He grabbed another pair for Tim, and two shirts. He removed his snot stained clothes and placed them in the hamper as well. He changed into new clean garments and stepped back into the now steam filled bathroom. Tim’s clothes and a clean towel over his arm.

“Do you want to try to fall back asleep?” Dick guessed it was about three in the morning

The water turned off, “would you mind staying up with me? I don’t want to be alone.”

He handed the towel to Tim.

“Of course babybird.”

 

 

* * *

 

Dick tore open the paper bag of microwave popcorn and poured it into a bowl as Tim selected Aladdin off of Netflix. Dick placed the bowl on the coffee table before sitting down on the old couch. He draped his arm around Tim and leaned up against him.

“Thanks for this.” Tim murmured into his chest as the movie started.

“That’s what family is for.”

 

 


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the jason part of the chapter its more sad

He couldn’t breath. The air was too hot, and his lung was collapsed. Pain flared all over his body. He grit his teeth ready to get up and fight when he heard it. A sound that made him freeze in terror. He tensed and spat blood as he remembered each blow. His world was consumed by a screeching, manic laugh.

A flash of green and more pain.

A laugh, and more pain.

There was a searing, burning in his throat and he couldn’t breath. There was no oxygen. The fire, the bomb had consumed it all. He was gasping for breath. He could feel his bones that were out of place.

Another flash of green and he saw their faces. Pieces of skin laid on on a table. Roy, Dick, Kori, He was helpless. He was too late. He couldn’t save anybody.

Roy was laying on the floor a needle sticking out of his arm.

Kori was strung up in chains, bled out by her people.

Dick was in a straight jacket, his hair dyed green and gruesome smile cut into his....

They were all faceless, the useless flaps of skin, on the table, pinned to the wall.

He killed them.

The giggle started softly and rose in volume until it was all consuming.

“Come on boy blunder! You know daddy doesn’t love you! He won’t come to save you! AHAHAHHAHAHA!!! All you can do is SCREAM!! ”

 

Jason launched upright out of bed, a scream gurgling in his throat but no noise came out. Just a hiss of air. His breath was rapid and shallow. He was dizzy. The laughing was there. It was real. He could hear him. He grabbed his gun from under the pillow and jumped to his feet. He frantically searched the room. It was empty. Just a bed and a set of drawers. The laughing hadn’t stopped. he sank down to the floor, his bare feet chilled by the hardwood. It was real. But there was no way to end it. It was in his head.

Tears leaked down his face. He pressed the smooth familiar muzzle of the gun to his temple. He knew that would stop it. It would be over. No more green. No more screams. No more pain.

“It’s not like they would fucking care.” he whispered out loud.

His finger trembled on the trigger.

Roy.

The weapon clattered to the floor.

The laughing stopped.

He pushed his head into his hands and cried. Real full sobs that made him shake and curse himself. He stood up, still crying, and pushed open the door to the bathroom. He filled the sink with cold water and submerged his face. He stayed under until the ringing in his ears ceased and his thoughts were clear.

Gasping for air when he came back up he dried his face on a towel. He had figured out the best way to stop a panic attack for himself was to hold his breath and shock himself out of crying. Cold water did the trick.

He walked back to the bedroom, feeling slightly nauseous and more awake than he had ever been. Glancing at his phone on the bedside table he considered calling Roy. The tech junkie was probably up working some project. He didn’t want to have to tell Roy what he saw though, and he knew he would ask.

It was 3:00.

He allowed himself to chuckle.

I guess the Joker is still trying to kill me

“It’s not like any of them would care.”

“Roy would care.”

He spoke out loud to himself, trying to ground himself. It only worked a little. His hands were still shaking, though he was loathe to admit it. At least with another person there they wouldn’t make him feel like shit for being upset. With himself it was a different story.

He sat cross legged on the bed. He considered going out in search of gangbangers but he was in Starling City and didn’t want to run the risk of crossing paths with Green Arrow while he was on edge. He wasn’t sure what he would do to the jackass unrestrained.

He told himself that he just wanted to shoot some shit but that wasn’t true.

He needed to touch something living. He needed to know that this was real and not some hallucination where the green haired fucker couldn’t appear crowbar in hand and blow him up again.

He pulled a knife out of the bedside table drawer and drew a quick shallow cut on the outside of his forearm. It hurt. This was real. He watched the cut, not even deep enough to bleed for real. There were a few other scars near it. When he was alone, and couldn’t break out of the nightmare. When it became a hallucination. Sometimes he had no other choice. Sometimes he missed.

Jason pulled out a woven leather piece he was making. It was something to do in his time on stakeouts. To keep his hands busy. He worked the soft leather into knots by feel. He knew the pattern by heart this time. He just wanted to calm down enough that maybe he could go back to sleep. He doubted it would happen. He doubted he would be able to eat he felt so sick.

“Thanks for keepin me alive.”

He spoke to an empty room.


End file.
